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A Mudblood's Place	By : WeatherTheStorm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the characters. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
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~~~~~~~~~Author's note~~~~~~~~~~~
So this chapter I decided to switch POV's Im not sure yet if this is something I will do very often, but I felt this was neccisarry for plot and character developement.I have a habit of jumping right into the deep end, and I'm trying to rectify that by giving a little back story and substance to the secondary characters, and by giving glimpse at the internal struggles . I don't believe that Draco is one demisional and therefore I cannot accept a potrayal of him being one demesional. I want to personally thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far, and a big thank you to those that are following me, your support means everything ! I'm still on the lookout for a Beta reader, so if you guys see any mistakes worth mentioning that I missed, feel free to point it out!
My musical insperation for this chapter was by: James Auther- Say You Won't Let Go.
Ch3. Carnations and Chrysanthemums

Draco's Pov
Month's prior, Draco had sat perched atop the corner of his bed, his fingers brushing absently over his wife Astoria's soft honey blond locks as she slept, their newborn infant son,Scorpious wrapped delicately in her arms. He was neither present nor coherent. It had been a long pregnancy for Astoria, much of which she had spent on bed rest. Her delicate, petite frame was built for rough shagging, but apparently not for motherhood. She had only been five months along, when after a fainting spell at dinner, that a medi-witch delivered the precarious news.
Her pregnancy had been viable, but just barely. She had been immediately ordered to bed rest and the stern-looking witch, although trying to remain positive, did not deliver news that he was ready to hear. Astoria most likely would not survive the delivery and the baby's condition still faired unknown. Her body was struggling to meet the demands of their baby growing inside though it was taking every bit of her, Astoria never faltered in her choice to continue the pregnancy. He knew she would give and give until she could literally give no more.
Stretched thin, Draco had exhausted every possible solution until only one was decided that close to her due date Astoria would go under a potion induced coma and the medi witch would deliver their young manually. It was the only way to reduce stress on both Astoria and their baby,the only solution that had any hope of saving both of their lives. On bed rest, Astoria maintained but did not thrive, as if Scorpius was stealing every bit of her substance as he grew. Draco had known that birthing a Malfoy heir was not for the faint of heart or the weak, but it hadn't crossed his mind when he had fallen head over heels for the diminutive beauty.
Astoria was kind, cunning, and ambitious. She had been everything he had admired in the fairer sex. It had never crossed his mind until a week-long 'stomach bug' turned out to be a baby, that her magic and her body might not be up to par. Even then it had only been a passing thought, right up until fainting incident Astoria's pregnancy had seemed normal enough. Other than her gaunt, shrinking appearance, which he had chalked up to her restless sleep and inability to keep much down, she seemed happy and normal. The medi-witch had assured them that some women never got over their morning sickness.
However once her morning sickness had finally subsided and she didn't seem to improve with more rest. The problem had become transparently clear. For weeks Draco had tried to convince Astoria to terminate the pregnancy. That they could try again another time, but she would have none of that stating she' would rather die bringing Scorpius into this world than live in one without him'. He admired her courage, her resolve, but It broke his heart. He dared not mention it again, no matter how much it tore him upinside to watch her deteriorate in front of him.
He tried his best to prepare himself for the worst-case scenario, but you can't prepare for death. So when Astoria had unexpectly gone into early labor, the medi-witch on call had little time to put her under. In which time both Astoria and their baby's heart rate had plummeted. Chaos had exploded in the manor as more medi-witches and nurses flooded his floo in an all hands on deck situation. House elves were in a panic fetching things left and right, even Granger had anxiously waited by their bedroom door from the shadows.
Gripping her small hand in his, Draco, whispered frantically into his wife's ear. Tears soaking his porcelain cheeks as he peppered her with tiny kisses, he kept willing her to hear him in her unconcious state, willing her to muster the strength to keep fighting. A sheet hung between him and her lower half separating him from the carnage as the medi-witch was hastily trying to remove her uterus and cut Scorpius from her womb. There was no time for hospital delivery, and so Astoria laid there staining their marital bed with her blood. She felt too cold to his touch, her pale face if possible even more pale, almost blue.
There was no sound other this his own pleading, so when the jostling stopped and the medi- witch's face floated from above the sheet, looking grim, Draco's legs gave out from under him. The silence was deafening, there was no crying of a newborn baby, and all sense of urgency had stopped to a his position on the floor, Draco sobbed, his face buried into Astoria's chest as his knees dug numbly into the hardwood floor unnoticed. It was pure agony. A nurse took the small bundle of whatwas his baby to relieve the medi- witch and she began to heal the wound she had made in her rescue attempt.
She was talking then, trying to soothe his pain.
" I'm so sorry Mr. Malfoy...there was nothing else I could do..."
She paused as she waited for him. Draco lifted his head from Astoria, her faint heartbeat driving the sorrow into his very soul. His voice
cracked hasrshly as he trembled.
" And what of my wife? How am I supposed to tell her about the baby? He was...he was her everything, it will kill her!"
There was that silence again,and then the sheet lowered to fold over his wife's lower half.
" Mr. Malfoy... your wife passed away some time ago...before I could even get her open, your baby suffered lack of oxygen I had
to restart her heart with a charm..her body is physically alive...but she will never wake up..."
The memory of that day haunted him, like no other he had ever experienced in his life. Even the final battle paled in comparison to how he had felt that day. He couldn't sleep, he barely ate, hell if it hadn't been for the thought of how disappointed Astoria would be if she could see her husband so weak, Draco would have gladly lept from the ballroom balcony and splattered his brain matter across the marble flooring. It was a tough decision to keep going when all you wanted to do was give up, give in. Day's bled into weeks where sleep evaded him but he just could not muster the energy to get out of bed.
The cycle of self-pity and hatred kept him rooted in place, breathing in the lingering scent of his wife's lavender scented shampoo on her pillowcase that he refused to wash, and clutching a stuffed dragon he had stolen from Scorpius's unused crib. That was how he spent most of his nights, drunk,but unable to close his eyes, because every time he did all he could see was their faces. He had lost every bit of him self in mere moments. His wife and child laid buried together beneath the Stoney earth beside the Malfoy Matriarch, and a few weeks following he laid his father to rest a few feet away in the family plot. He didn't deserve to lay next to his mother.
Draco was the very last of his family, and he supposed it was fitting that his lineage die with him, but the choice was not his. It wasn't long before the letters of condolences moved to letters of marriage proposals. Mother's suffocated him with moving pictures of their silver spoon-fed daughters. It made his stomach churn. Every single one of them had the same narcissistic air about them, with their greedy little eyes and forced smiles.
It was disgusting. In this world, though love was just a myth that parents told their children to make the transition easier. Only duty, and blood purity existed as a reality. It didn't matter that Astoria had filled every single one of the holes in his heart with her love and that her death had left a gaping mass where his heart used to be. His duty was to remarry and produce an heir, even if he was dead inside.
For a while Draco had left letters to pile up, unopened. All he wanted was to wallow and grieve for the love of his life, and his sweet baby with tufts of his same white-blond hair. He had looked like a sleeping angel, the most beautiful child he had ever seen. However, his silence was a great offence to the old families and his Aunt Bella drifted in like the plague with her beta cuck's Theodore Nott and the Weasle, to remind him how weak he was. She made it her priority to scour every letter and select the most horrid of the lot and invite them to tea to consider their proposal in person as was custom.
People had called his Aunt mad, she wasn't mad she was downright sadistic, perfectly lucid just inherently gleeful at causing as much pain and misery to everyone she came into contact with as possible. His Aunt and her lackeys had become a semi-permanent fixture in his life as of late. Nott, he didn't mind so much, he was the only one who had understood, his Aunt had not tainted his loyal friend yet, but the godforsaken weasel was like an infestation. He skulked about his mansion, touching all of his things with his dirty blood traitor dick skinners, and drinking all of Draco's expensive whiskey.
For a while, he hadn't noticed Weasle's coming and goings throughout the manor until his fog of grief started to clear. Then he had begun to pay enough attention to the fool, to notice an unusual pattern. Too much attention if he were honest with himself. It had become a bit of an obsession to watch him walk around like an overgrown toddler, tripping over himself. Most evenings his Aunt insisted they dine together in which the rodent would stuff his gullet like a pig, drink an entire bottle of fire whiskey and then depart to the cellar to 'retrieve' another.
At first, he had assumed the gluttonous peasant just had a bit of a drinking problem like the rest of them did these days, until he started to take longer and longer to reappear upstairs, and then some nights he would disappear altogether not to show his face again until the morning. Smelling like body odor and stale sex. It took longer then he cared to admit to figure out what could be so fascinating about his cellar that the weasel spent all his free time visiting it. It was Granger. He had honestly forgotten all about the bushy bucked-toothed mudblood.
In his defense she went about the manor like a little church mouse, quiet and unseen. She was easy to forget when you're being pelted by a hale storm of bullshit and death. Draco did not immediately react to his discovery. In part because he was too worn to care about anyone or anything other than himself and his loss, but mostly he wanted to watch for a figure out if what was going on was some kind of rebellion or an illicit affair.
Weasel was born a blood traitor. Blood traitor or not though he was still, in fact, a pureblood and like every one of the pureblooded men his age, he had been married off early. Much to the displeasure of Ron's his wife Pansy, the Parkinson dowry vault had pulled his remaining family from poverty and back into the world of aristocratic society. All of which Draco refused to acknowledge. He still carried himself like a penniless slob, drinking and eating on someone else's knut and fawning enviously over his things. Merlin's saggy balls, the wretch still dressed in discounted clothing that had once belonged to someone else.
Draco didn't particularly like the pug-faced girl anymore now then he had at Hogwarts but he almost pitied the poor girl for being pawned off to the weasel like a lame Heffer past it's prime. She wasn't exactly a friend of his, not one that he would claim anyways, but they had grown up together and he did feel for her plight. Of course Draco probably would have felt pitty for any unlucky witch that would have been unfortunate enough to be forced to breed with that mouth breathing lump of stupid. Even more unfortunate still for Pansy, the weasle had seemingly inherited his family's abundant fertility, and she was at home heavy with set of twins on their first go around. What an incredible tragedy.
Draco decided to bid his time, and so he watched the weasel, shadowing his every move. Stalking had become his new hobby as of late, it gave him something else to obsess over other than his grief, and Slytherin be damned he was good at it. Despite how thick-headed the weasel was, he had lived through the same events Draco had and was a fair bit paranoid after the fact. It didn't help that he had also been grafted in with death eaters after the dark lord's victory. Strange as it was, even in a drunken stupor the tosser could be a bit slippery.
Tonight though he had finally caught the bastard getting careless. As usual Draco sat lounging at the dining table, nursing a brandy, swirling the dark amber liquid around in his tumbler, trying to forget who he was, when right on time, Weasle let out a disgusting belch as he set down his empty bottle of whiskey heavily and mumbled his retreat for more. His Aunt Bella barely glanced at his retreating form as she cackled hysterically to Nott's recounting of the tale about the time that he had imperiused Hannah Abbott and made her strip down to give Amycus Carrow a lap dance in the great hall.
Draco hid his disgust for the recounting, Hannah hadn't been the same after what they had done to the poor girl later that evening. Now she spent her day's walking the red district like a ghost, pale and grimy, mumbling to herself and offering discount blowjobs for a living. He wasn't soft by any means, but defiling a woman had never been something he had much of a stomach for. Instead of retreating to his bed chamber after dinner, Draco swallowed down the bile threatening spew deciding tonight he would linger, and it paid in his favor.
An hour, maybe two passed before familiar firey locks emerged from the cellar, a serene satisfied smirk plastered on his stupid fucking face which that in itself wasn't a give away, rather it was that his hands were empty. The ignorant piece of dragon dung had forgotten to knick a bottle on his way up. To top the cake, he reeked of body fluids and a smell that he could only describe as very Granger like. The snake had finally caught the rodent. It should have felt satisfying to know he had caught the Weasle, but it only made him furious.
Turning a knowing look to the oaf, Draco, for the most part, kept his displeasure to himself as he twirled a finger casually around the rim of his empty tumbler. Bella and Nott were decidedly sloshed at this point, but even sloshed, Bellatrix Lestrange missed energy in the room had amplified to electrically charged, so much so that she glanced up to stare at Draco. Giving an exaggerated frown Draco decided to toy with the weasel, looking away from her dark penetrating stare.
" Oi, Weasley what happened to the whiskey? It's awfully rude to keep us waiting for a fresh drink, yet here you are with no whiskey. Did you get lost?"
Game set. Ron's ears tinged a dark red as he glanced up stupidly at Draco, caught in his own lie, before glancing down at his empty hands. He could visibly see how hard he was working to come up with something akien to belivable. Draco almost wished he could enjoy watching him squirm, yet the images of a dirty Granger with tears in her eyes as that tosser had his way with her made its way to his forfront. As much as Draco wanted to believe it was just something as simple as a carefree romp,Granger didn't strike him as the type to be of loose morals. It wasn't in her nature to have one off with a married man, much less an active Death Eater even if he had been her boyfriend at one point.
"Uh...yeah all I could find was wine, don't drink the stuff myself it gives me a wicked hangover..."
This time, he couldn't help himself as he let his face pull into a full on grimace. The chill that ran through the dinning hall was almost tangible as his cool gaze stripped him to bare bones, glittering evilly in the low light. He hated the fucking prick. It was one thing to believe you were above someones blood status, it was another thing entirely to stoop so low as to hate fuck them. He wanted to rip his twig and berries off with his bare hands and shove it down the wanker's throat.
"How odd, the wine is usually kept in the kitchen...Did you ask the mudblood? I'm sure she would know!"
The panic that flashed across the idiot's face made a dark part of Draco's soul stir to life, purring with contentment. All three sets of eyes rotated and fell on the ginger all at once and Nott seemed to be working something out in his head, the gears turning so hard he could almost see smoke leaking from his ears. A matching pair of grins planted itself on the dark-haired man's face as well as his Aunt's, and Bellatrix purred at his side almost pleased with the turn of events.
"A mudblood you say? Now this is interesting, what's this about a mudblood dear nephew?"
Letting his head roll lazily on his shoulders Draco Glanced at his aunt, trying to hide the anger that simmered beaneath the surface. Slouching in his chair as if he hadn't a care in the world, Draco let his impassive mask fall into place.
"Oh you haven't heard Aunt Bella? She was a wedding gift from our lord, part of the faction we rounded up at Hogwarts. You wouldn't believe how ecstatic I was, She was the bushy-haired toe-rag that hung around Potter. Seems the Dark Lord thought highly of your suggestion. What better way to put a mudblood in their place then have them licking the bottom of your boots and scrubbing your loo!"
Bellatrix practically beamed proudly at him, it was a rather odd strained expression he had never seen before on the older witch. He didn't know how to feel about it, it made him feel exsposed, uncomfortable and also dirty all at the same time as a pit of guilt settled in his belly. Owning muggleborns wasn't a gift, It was wrong. Where the fuck had that come from? Placing a finger to his chin Nott faked ignorant curiosity as his arm draped the back of his Aunt's chair.
" Hmm bushy-haired Mu- Oh you're talking about Granger. Say Weasley didn't you used to shag Granger?"
Ron looked positively ill, his face a sickly green, as his mouth kept opening and closing like a fish out of water. He struggled to offer a response. His fist's balled at his sides, prepared for a bare-knuckle brawl.
" I wasn't shagging her, I would never shag Herm-a mudblood...She was a know- it all. I let her fancy the idea I had a crush on her so she would keep doing my homework."
A slap rang out as Bellatrix slammed her palm down on the wooden surface of the table all traces of her earlier mirth gone. She looked almost rabid with her dark hair a chaotic mess, and her onyx eyes wild. She didn't need anymore spelling it out to guess what they were on about. Unlike the other high ranking Death Eaters, though fond of torture, Bella did not take sex with muggleborns casually. It was an offense to all her pure-blood senses to take pleasure from a mudblood when you had a perfect wife to bugger at home.
" So you're saying that the mudblood was smarter than you?... Tsk...I don't think you're being honest Weasley...In fact...yes...She was that mudblood you were begging me to let you take her place...hmm rather coincidental indeed that it took you so long.. Tell us Blood-traitor...Have you been down in that basement bollocks deep in mud-blood minge IN MY NEPHEW'S HOME!"
She was Shrieking towards the end, making the fucker quake in his cheap faux dragon hide boots, the trill of her voice drilling into his eardrums making Draco's ears bleed, and before he had time to react the bastard turned tail. He was fleeing, running as hard and fast as he could towards the front doors, his wand out by his side. His body was a blur of pumping limbs as he reached for the handle. He was going to try and Disapparate outside of the wards. Draco was up and moving in a flash, hot on his heels as a expert cast of Levicorpus flew past him and caught Ron mid-run.
The fool was yanked off his feet and flipped head over heels to dangle upside down. By the time he had reached him, Ron's face was an angry shade of scarlet as all the blood in his body rushed to pool in his empty head and he flailed his gangly arms, pleading incoherently as Bellatrix strode towards him, wand trained on him. She was entertaining murder, her teeth barred as an animalistic growl rumbled from her chest. She didn't need permission anymore to make the light leave his eyes and Draco knew she wouldn't ask. She was the highest-ranking death eater alive now, and she took personal offense to purebloods fucking half-bloods and mudbloods ever since her husband Rodolphus was caught cheating on her with a teenage half-blood that had been charged with the duty of being, her and their lord's illegitimate daughter, Delphini's nanny.
Draco wanted him to really suffer though. He deserved much more than a quick Avada! Balling up his fist, Draco reared back and punched him as hard as he could directly in his ugly freckled face, delighting in the cruching sound of his nose shattering against his knuckles. Where was this rage coming from? He hardly felt the pain in his hand even as it began to swell, it had been worth it. Glacing in his peripheral's he shouted as he caught Bellatrix's wand emiting an ominious glow that was the killing curse. He couldn't let him die just yet.
" WAIT, Aunt Bella, don't you think this matter should be taken up with the lord, this is more than just a filthy shag...He...he could have gotten her pregnant, you know what that means..that's an open act of rebellion...There could be more mudbloods he frequents the red light district, who knows how many of them could be mudbloods!"
Bellatrix didn't bother to even glance in his general direction as she waved her free hand in the air dismissively, but the glow from her wand died out. She looked unhappy that she couldn't just kill the rodent, but Draco had a fair point. Even if he knew Weasley wasn't capable of it, all plausable avenues had to be looked into. He had no reason, to join a rebellion at this point. Logically speaking he had everything he had ever wanted, a wife, kids, and money to spend without having to work for it.
"Yes, yes nephew I shall take him straight to our Lord, perhaps he might even be so gracious as to let you deliver his punishment. That might make you feel better yes? Come, Nott, we have the matter to attend to now."
Draco bit back a smart remark and instead muttered a quiet thank you to his Aunt, stepping quickly to open the door for her departure. She was as foul as they came , but it seemed lately she had been rather useful. He didn't care if he had to grovel at the dark lord's feet for the rights, he would be the one to to send the Weasle to hell, no one else! Scuttling along behind her Nott muttered "Accio" for their traveling robes, his urgency to Bellatrix's needs was one of the only reasons she kept him cozy by her side.
Draco had to respect the man's intelligence. If one wanted a promotion the fastest way was suckling at the teat of their Lord's favorite pet. Bellatrix gave a wave of her wand as she stepped through the threshold and the dangling idiot glided slowly behind her, his nose steadily leaking blood on his floors from being broken. Nott followed closely behind her, giving Draco a curt nod, his ocean blue orbs holding a bit of mischief as he called over his shoulder .
" What a wonderful meal Draco, we really must do this again sometime."
With that both His aunt and Nott linked arms, all three of the vanishing on the spot.
Draco stood there for a moment staring at the spot they had just stood, silently contemplating. He didn't understand why the knowledge that Weasley had been forcing himself on Granger bothered him so badly, but the haunted look she had given him when he had paid her a visit that very morning had shaken him a bit. Even without the mounting evidence, he had no doubt that she had been telling the truth. She was a mudblood, yes, but no one deserved that kind of betrayal. He had been her friend for almost a decade, even her boyfriend at one point.
She also belonged to him! As slytherin as he was, even Draco understood loyalty. How pathetic of a person would you have to be to do something as abhorant as that. He absolutely could not wait. Weasley would die a Traitors death, and Draco would be the one to stomp the life from his body. For she was his property, and you do not covet thy neighbors things...
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A Mudblood's Place